A Tale of Two Nannies - Cover

A Tale of Two Nannies

Copyright© 2018 by Lubrican

Chapter 2

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 2 - When Bob's wife died in childbirth, he needed help with the baby. As an English professor, he couldn't really afford that. A little creative thinking solved the problem. He could offer room and board, and a little spending money, which appealed to one freshman girl. The only rub then was that they both had classes. It took two nannies to make things work. One knew a trick to get a baby to stop crying. She offered it a real nipple. If only that nipple could actually make milk. Turns out, it can.

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/ft   ft/ft   Mult   Teenagers   Consensual   Reluctant   BiSexual   Fiction   School   Polygamy/Polyamory   Exhibitionism   First   Lactation   Masturbation   Oral Sex   Petting   Pregnancy   Babysitter   Slow  

If Bob had thought having two babysitters would give him more sleep, he hadn’t counted on his suddenly re-awakened libido. If he heard Jeffrey cry in the middle of the night, he gave whoever was tending him time to change his diaper and get ready to feed him, and then he tiptoed to the nursery to engage in his new hobby - voyeurism.

The girls never closed the door, and now both of them, as often as not, responded to Jeffrey’s distress dressed only in panties. They let Jeffrey suckle a ‘worthless’ real nipple and then stuck a fake one in his mouth. He always attacked both types of nipple with the same energetic gusto.

Bob always got erect, but lust wasn’t his only response. He was quite sure Melanie would never have breast fed. He didn’t know why he felt that way. He just did. And the love each girl showed was beautiful, as she sat in the rocking chair he’d gone out and bought, letting Jeffrey suck on his human pacifiers for as long as he wanted, until he eventually drifted off to sleep and the nipple reluctantly slipped out of his mouth.

He didn’t think it was odd that the girls would run around practically naked during the night. He was quite sure they didn’t know he peeked at them. They’d have screamed at him if they knew. And they were always bright and cheery whenever he ran into them. As school started, and both he and they attended classes, they saw less of each other. Once a week he grabbed the grocery list off the counter and went to load it all up in his car after English 101, which was his last class of the day.

In the evenings, he saw more of them. They took turns, one taking care of Jeffrey while the other did homework. Bob made sure they had the time to develop good study habits. He’d seen too many promising students fall by the wayside because they didn’t have the personal discipline to study.

Neither watched much television. Alex had a set of headphones she wore while she studied. Bob didn’t understand how she could do that, but it seemed to work for her. Ronnie had better study habits to start with, and she was single-minded about getting her work done.

The third Saturday after the girls began living with him, Mavis and Gene Klitzky, Alex’s parents, showed up without notice. Bob got the distinct impression that it was an intentional surprise inspection. He happened to answer the door when they knocked and, having no idea who they were, simply asked if he could help them.

“Yes,” said the woman, in a voice Bob recognized. She sounded exactly like her daughter. “You can invite us in so we can visit our daughter.”

It was only awkward for five minutes. Alex was obviously and genuinely happy to see them. Her father didn’t say much. He was a weathered man with a lined face and the dark skin of a man who spends a lot of time in the sun. Alex took them on the grand tour and they met both Ronnie, who was introduced as “My roomie”, and Jeffrey, whom Ronnie was holding. Alex showed them their room, and the nursery, and kitchen, and even the grocery list. Bob expected her to open the fridge and prove there was plenty of food to eat.

“So you’re a nanny,” said her mother.

“I guess. I don’t really know what a nanny does.”

“A nanny provides childcare within the family setting,” said Mavis. “She’s a babysitter who lives with the baby.”

“Then I guess I’m a nanny,” said Alex.

“How much are you getting paid?” Mavis was blunt.

“I get room and board and spending money,” said Alex. “Mom, stop worrying about me. This is working perfectly for me. And Ronnie helps, so I have plenty of time to study.”

“It just seems odd, two girls being nannies,” said Mavis. Bob was mildly surprised. He was standing three feet away, but Mavis didn’t seem to realize that. She proved him wrong when she turned and addressed him directly. “And what about your wife? Why does she need two nannies?”

Mother!“ wailed Alex.

“She died in child birth,” said Bob, calmly.

“Oh! I’m so sorry,” said Mavis. Her demeanor changed instantly from protective mother hen to awkward, embarrassed farm wife.

“Let’s go to dinner, now,” said Gene. “Everybody’s invited.”

Alex continued grumping at her mother until Bob surreptitiously squeezed her elbow and gave her a minuscule shake of his head. Bob asked the Klitzkys what kind of food they wanted to eat and Mavis, subdued by what she recognized as her abrupt manner, said anything was fine. Bob, Ronnie, and Jeffrey went in his car, and Alex rode with her parents, following him to Golden Corral. He chose that restaurant because of the variety it offered.

Things normalized during the meal. Mavis talked constantly, about anything except Bob’s wife. It was as if she thought if she brought up enough unrelated subjects, everyone would forget her social gaffe from earlier. Gene gave short, terse answers to questions about how the farm was doing. Bob thought it was interesting that the only parent who said, “We really miss you, Alex,” was her taciturn father. Alex asked about her siblings and laughed when Mavis described how there was an ongoing contest to see who would replace Alex as top dog.

Whether it was because Mavis felt bad about grilling Bob and prying into his private life, or because Gene was being truthful when he said there was work to be done on the farm, the Klitzkys left for home after supper, instead of staying the night. Finally, Bob got to see Mavis in full-blown maternal mode as she hugged her daughter and a tear rolled down her pudgy face.

“It’s so different with you gone,” Bob heard her say into Alex’s hair. “And I worry about you.”

“I had to grow up someday, Mamma,” said Alex in return. “And don’t worry. He’s a nice man. He’s not like you said men would be.”

Bob looked away when he heard that. He was puzzled, because she was obviously talking about him, but what she’d said had no context for him to evaluate it in. It seemed like a strange thing for a girl to say to her mother. Then he felt guilty about eavesdropping and moved away so he couldn’t hear anything further. He joined Ronnie, who was holding Jeffrey, and took the baby in his arms.

“Parents can be so embarrassing,” she commented.

“They only want the best for you,” Bob replied.

“I get that,” she said. “But they’re still embarrassing.”

“Remember that when you visit your kids at college,” said Bob, smiling.

Alex left her parents to get in their car, and began walking toward the people she now lived with. Ronnie took Jeffrey again and got in the back, where the car seat was. Alex sat shotgun without comment. It was quiet in the car when they started off.

“Sorry,” she finally said.

“Nothing horrible happened,” said Bob.

“You want to know what’s crazy?” asked Alex.

“Sure,” said Bob.

“That’s the woman who told me to be proud I have a clitoris.”

Bob swerved, but then steadied the wheel, as Ronnie leaned forward and said, “What?”

Alex looked out her window.

“When I got into middle school, some kids started calling me Clitty.” There was a short pause. “Klitzky ... Clitty. Get it?”

“Kids can be cruel,” said Bob.

“I wanted to change my name. I begged them to change our name. My mother said I should be proud I had a clitoris, should rejoice that I lived in times when men knew what to do with a clitoris. She actually said that!”

“Hmmm,” said Bob. He was unprepared to participate in this conversation.

“Wow,” said Ronnie from the back seat.

“I was thirteen and I got a lecture on how, for hundreds of years, men paid no attention to a woman’s clit, and women got little, if any pleasure from sex.”

“Well,” said Bob, “When you think about it, I guess that’s true.”

“My mother has been humiliating me since I was a little girl,” she sighed.

“That’s not fair,” said Bob. “All she was trying to do was give you the tools you needed to survive.”

Alex looked at him.

“Really? Want to hear what she told me about men?”

“I do,” said Ronnie, from the back seat. “My mother never told me anything about sex, or men.”

Bob felt a little light-headed. He wasn’t prepared for this conversation, either.

“She said men only want one thing, and that they don’t care about the woman unless she’s willing to give it to them.”

“Everybody knows that,” said Ronnie.

“She told me a man will do anything to get sex; lie, cheat, anything.”

Bob felt like he should defend the male of the species, but he also felt like this was the wrong time to do it.

“I had a guy lie to me one time,” said Ronnie. “He told me he had cancer and that I should sleep with him before he died. He said it was on his bucket list of things to do before he was dead.”

“Obviously you didn’t do it,” said Alex.

“I was too stupid, back then. I thought he was lying because I believed nobody that young could even get cancer. I told my parents about it - just the cancer part - and they got all weepy and called his parents, you know, to offer their support. He wasn’t sick at all. He got in major trouble for it.”

“Not all men are like that,” Bob hazarded.

“I know that now,” said Alex. “But for a lot of years I was scared of guys.” She looked at Bob again. “I learned better. I’ve met a lot of good men. You’re one of them.”

“Thanks,” said Bob, feeling guilty. Good men didn’t peek at young women when they thought they were in private.

“You could have blackmailed us for sex, but you didn’t,” said Alex.

This time Bob had to pull over and stop, to avoid driving erratically.

“Why would you say that?” he asked, staring wild-eyed at Alex.

“You could have told my parents how kinky I am ... we are,” she said. “But all you do is watch. You didn’t push yourself on us, or demand anything. You’ve been a perfect gentleman.”

Ronnie’s face appeared between them.

“Alex, I thought we weren’t going to tell him we knew,” she said.

“Things have changed,” said Alex. She looked at her friend. “Sorry. When I get mad I’m a little impulsive, sometimes.”

“I don’t understand,” said Bob, weakly.

“We know you watch us when we feed Jeffrey,” said Alex. “Try to feed him,” she amended. She frowned. “We know you watch us let him suck.”

“How?” choked Bob.

“I saw movement in the doorway one night,” said Ronnie. “I got scared and told Alex about it.”

“And then there was the fact that the very next day after I told Ronnie I wished we had a rocking chair, you bought one. So I sneaked around and caught you sneaking around,” said Alex.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” asked Bob.

“Well, you weren’t jerking off or anything. You were just watching. Why didn’t you yell at us?

Bob thought about that.

“It was just so beautiful,” he sighed.

“I’m not beautiful,” said Ronnie.

“Of course you are,” said Bob. “In that setting, being so tender, so caring. It’s beautiful,” he insisted.

“And the fact that we’re almost naked has nothing to do with it?” There seemed to be a smile in Alex’s voice.

Bob looked away.

“I’m not so pure and gentlemanly as you think,” he said.

“You could have used it to your advantage,” Alex reminded him.

“Like I said, not all men are that way,” he replied.

“Which is why we decided it wasn’t hurting anything to let you keep looking,” said Alex.


Having permission to do something is not necessarily the same thing as feeling comfortable doing it. That both girls were so accepting of what Bob thought of as his perversion, didn’t mean Bob felt any better about being perverted. Alex had mentioned masturbation. He hadn’t admitted that, after watching them, he beat his meat mercilessly. He’d spurted more in the three weeks they’d lived with him than he had in the last three years he’d lived with Melanie.

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